Emotional abuse often follows a recognizable pattern where victims are conditioned to accept mistreatment as correction, intimidation as leadership, and emotional chaos as something they must endure; the key indicators include explosive verbal outbursts followed by love-bombing, pressure to remain silent about the abuse, and the victim being blamed for the abuser's behavior rather than the abuser taking accountability.
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Deep Dive
Episode 4: The First Month. The First Time I Saw Who He Really WasAdded:
Everybody knew. Everybody knew. Nobody said nothing. I was still believing.
Everybody was fronting. Smiles at the feast. But the vibe said something.
Looking back now. Yeah. The silence was disgusting. Everybody knew. Nobody said a word. Every time I spoke, somehow I was the disturbed. Everybody heard.
Everybody observed. But they let me learn it the hard way. That's what hurt.
Walked in thinking I found me a family.
Found a whole lot of people protecting a fantasy. Everybody playing like it's loving community. Till you ask one question and suddenly it's mutiny. One wife, two wives, dinner and drinks.
Thought we was connected. Now I stop and I think why every friendship ended right at the brink. Why every bond sank before it could link. I was too new to see it.
Everybody else had already agreed to be it. Walk on eggshells. Never question the leader. And if you get hurt somehow you the procedure, that's the part that still gets me. Not the anger, not the insults, not the whiskey. It's everybody acting like the picture was pretty while watching the whole thing happened in the city.
Everybody knew, nobody said nothing. I was still believing. Everybody was fronting. Smiles at the feast, but the vibe said something. Looking back now, yeah, the silence was disgusting.
Everybody knew, nobody said a word.
Every time I spoke, somehow I was the disturbed. Everybody heard, everybody observed, but they let me learn it the hard way, that's what hurt. Told me don't worry, he just be saying stuff.
That sentence alone should have been enough. Cuz if it's normal, then it's happening often. And if it's happening often, why we calling this love? That's when the curtain slipped. Saw the whole room in the virgin switch. Everybody had a roll in it. Everybody knew exactly what the problem is, but nobody want to be the next target. Nobody want to lose their spot in the market. Nobody want to risk their image getting tarnished. So everybody silent while the truth at parked there.
And maybe that's the lesson. Sometimes the loudest thing ain't the aggression.
Sometimes it's everybody witnessing and still treating the damage like a blessing. I don't need revenge.
Truth already do what it do. Funny thing about darkness, eventually everybody see through. I don't need to scream.
I don't need to fight.
The mask always slips when you give it enough time.
Everybody knew. Nobody said nothing. Now they act surprised when the story start buzzing. Now they act shock when the receipts start coming. Man, the truth been sitting and y'all just wasn't discussing. Everybody knew. Nobody said a word. Now the song is louder than anything I heard. Everybody watched, everybody observed. And that's the reason this story got to be heard.
After everything I shared about the financial red flags, I want to talk about what started happening emotionally once I actually moved to Washington.
Because what people need to understand is that things did not slowly become unhealthy years later. Some of the most disturbing moments started happening within the first month of me being there. And at the time, I didn't fully understand what I was experiencing. I kept trying to explain things away. I kept telling myself, "Maybe he was stressed. Maybe he had been drinking too much. Maybe this was just one bad night.
Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe I needed to be more respectful. softer, more patient or more submissive. I was still trying to believe I had made the right decision. I had just moved my life and I had trusted him. I had already started building my life around him. So, I was not looking for reasons to leave. I was looking for reasons to stay. The first major incident happened after he wanted me to meet his other wives. I had gone to lunch with one wife and then dinner with the other. After dinner, me and the second wife didn't have small children with us at the time, so we asked him if it was okay for us to continue our night, maybe go play darts and have another drink. He said yes. He even said he might join us. So, we went. While we were there, we saw him outside driving through the parking lot, and I thought he was about to park and come inside, but he didn't. Instead, he texted us telling us to leave. So, I responded with a thinking emoji because I was genuinely confused. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful. I wasn't challenging him. I was just wondering where he was going or why he wasn't coming inside after saying he might join us. That's when he called me. And that was the first time he really went off on me like that. He started cussing me out, telling me to go home right now, calling me out my name, asking who I thought I was, and telling me I don't need to send emojis when he tells me to do something. I was shocked. I started trying to explain myself, but the more aggressive he got, the more scared I became. So eventually, I just said, "Okay, and I left." On the way home, he called me again. He was still angry. He told me that when he tells me something, I need to just say, "Okay. I don't need to ask questions. I don't need to send emojis. I don't need to say anything else." He compared me to the other wife, saying, "She just say okay, and I didn't." He said I needed to learn respect. And I remember crying while driving home. That was the first time I had experienced that side of him.
And because it was late, because he had also been out drinking, because that was already part of his normal routine, I told myself maybe he had just had too much to drink. Maybe alcohol got the best of him. Maybe this wasn't really him. When I got home, he told me to call him once I settled. So, I did. And when I called, I wasn't combative. I wasn't yelling. I wasn't trying to fight. I was apologetic. I was trying to deescalate.
I was trying to fix it. I was trying to understand what I had done wrong. And then the conversation shifted. He broke down crying. He started saying he was worried about me hurting his children.
He said he wouldn't be able to handle that. He asked me over and over if I wanted to leave him. And when a grown man is crying to you, asking if you're going to leave after you've already moved your life and trusted him, of course I said no. I told him I would stay. I told him I wouldn't hurt his kids. And after that emotional shift, the conversation turned sexual. He wanted me to send him pictures and videos. Then came the affection, the reassurance, the love bombing. And because of that, I convinced myself it was just a bad night. I thought maybe he had been drinking, maybe he was triggered, maybe he regretted it, and maybe it wouldn't happen again.
But it did happen again. The second major incident happened during the Feast of Tabernacles camping trip. Me and the two wives had been sitting together after the kids went to sleep. He was at another lot with his friends drinking.
And later that night, he came back to our lot and said something to his second wife about not needing any more drinks.
At some point, he acted like he was going to pour water on her. She was telling him to stop and he was telling her to put her hands down, to be quiet, and to sit still. I saw her saying, "Stop." So, I chimed in. I said something like, "Honey, don't do that.
That's rude." But I said it with a smile. I was trying to keep it light. I was not trying to challenge him. And I thought I was helping, but he turned on us. He told me not to tell him what to do with his wife. He said he had half the mind to send both of us [ __ ] home that night. He said me and Kia were out of order, that we had been hanging too close together, and that we thought we could tell him what to do. He said we needed to go to our tent and go to bed right now. Mind you, this was in the middle of the night, around 1:00 in the morning. We were at a campsite over an hour away from home, and he was threatening to send us home in the middle of the night, except for Brandy.
I tried to talk to him because I was genuinely confused and embarrassed. I wanted to understand why he had spoken to us that way, but he told me not to talk. He told me to walk away from him right now or he was going to show me worse than what he had just shown me. He told me if I knew what was best for me, I would turn around and go do what he said and stop being out of order. That moment scared me. I asked if I could go to my car because I needed space. Me, Kia, and Brandy were sharing a tent and I just needed to be alone for a few minutes to process what had happened. He asked if I was leaving. I told him no, that I just needed space. Eventually, he said that was fine. So, I went to my car and I sat there for maybe 20 minutes crying, contemplating what I had gotten myself into. Kia texted me to check on me and asked me to come back to the tent. She told me things were going to be okay. So, I went back. When I got back to the tent, Brandy was there. She asked if I was okay and I said yes. And then she said something that stayed with me. She basically told me not to worry about what he had just done, that he always does things like that and says things he doesn't mean. She said he wasn't actually going to send us home, that he'd just be saying stuff. And something clicked in me because I remember thinking, "Wait, he always does this. This is normal here. This is something everybody already knows. This is something everybody just accepts."
That was one of the first moments where I realized this may not have been a one-off. This may not have been alcohol.
This may not have just been a bad night.
This may have been who he was. But even then, I was still trying to process it.
I still didn't fully understand the pattern yet.
After that, me and Kia were never really close again. It felt like after that incident, there was pressure for her to distance herself from me. Then suddenly, there were different reasons why she didn't like me or she didn't want me around. She would ignore me when I came into a space where she was present. And later, it was blamed on her having RBF.
But from my perspective, that incident changed the dynamic between us. And that's something I would start noticing more and more. Whenever there was closeness between the wives or any kind of unity, it could become a problem.
Instead of building safety or sisterhood, the environment created division, insecurity, and competition.
That's what he wanted. That's what he cultivated. The next day at the camping trip, another sister noticed a visible shift in me. She could tell something was wrong. I was sad. I was not myself.
I started to vaguely explain what happened to her, but she stopped me and said that this wasn't the time or the place. She said after the camping trip, we would go to dinner and talk about it.
So, we did. At that dinner, I told her how my husband was treating us. I told her what was happening behind the scenes. I had a genuine bond with this sister. My husband had preferred me to her when I originally went to him for spiritual counseling. So it was okay for her to know all the intimate details of my life previously but now since it's regarding him I needed to keep quiet. I guess she told her husband and after that her husband stopped coming to camp for about 2 months. From what I understand when he left he said he wasn't supportive of the way leadership was treating their wives and my husband was angry about that. After that I was made to feel like I had done something wrong by speaking. I was told I run my mouth, that I tell his business, and that if that man fell out of the truth, then him and his family's blood would be on my hands. That kind of pressure is hard to explain unless you understand the environment. It wasn't just you embarrassed me. It became spiritual. It became guilt. It became if someone leaves the truth because of what you said about me, that blood is on you. So, I stopped talking to her for a while.
And that's how isolation happens. Not always by someone physically locking you away, but by making the consequences of speaking feel so heavy that you start silencing yourself. Looking back now, there's something else I realized at the time. I thought the problem was his behavior. I thought he had anger issues.
I thought he drank too much. I thought he treated people badly. But I still believed he was sincere. I still believed he genuinely believed what he was teaching. I still believed he was sincere about the doctrine. That part didn't start unraveling until much later. Because over time, I started watching major beliefs change. Not small opinions, major positions. Positions he publicly taught. Positions he built platforms around. positions he sold products around for years. He taught Israelonly salvation. Then later he began teaching gentile salvation. And what made that difficult for me was that he had publicly said before that if someone wanted to make real money, they would teach gentile salvation. Then later that became the doctrine he was teaching. At the same time he changed his positions on the names Yahawah and Yahawashi.
For years he taught those names. For years, he defended those names. For years, families learned those names. For years, children learned those names.
Then later, he began saying those were not actually the original Hebrew names and that PaleoHebrew was not even a true biblical dialect. This was especially difficult for me because those are the names I pray in. Those were the names I believe in. Those were the names I prayed throughout my pregnancy. Those were the names I prayed during my labor and delivery. I had a healthy pregnancy and a delivery that went exactly how I had hoped. And the entire time I was praying in those names. When I asked him about it, he told me I could still use those names and that it would not affect my salvation. He just no longer believed they were the original names. But what confused me was that he had spent years teaching those names publicly.
Just a few months before he made this change, he had produced children's books called Yahawah's Kingdom for His Children and Yahawashi's Kingdom for His Children. Families bought those books.
Parents taught their children from those books. And when I pointed that out to him and said, "You just sold all those books with Yahawa and Yahawashi's name in it." He told me, "I know. I'm going to have to make some more and put Gentiles in there."
That conversation stuck with me because I wasn't thinking about money at first.
I was thinking about sincerity. I was thinking about belief. I was thinking about whether the person teaching these things actually believed them when he was teaching them. What made it even more confusing was learning later that he publicly stated he and Hassad had already presented this information to Alazar before before the doctrine had changed publicly and that Alazar rejected it. So now I'm looking at the timeline wondering if you believed this before the public change, then how long were you teaching something different from what you actually believed? And if these were major doctrinal issues, why continue producing materials, selling books, charging for classes, and building products around positions you no longer agreed with? Those were questions I wasn't ready to ask yet, but they started forming because some of the same things that made me question him as a husband eventually made me question him as a teacher. The contradictions, the inconsistency, the certainty one day and the reversal the next. And that wasn't limited to salvation or the names. At one point during our separation, he told me he had reread Matthew and that he believed he could actually give me a bill of divorce, even though there had been no fornication. He was preparing to write one. Then a couple weeks later, he changed his position again and said he had misunderstood the passage and could not give me a bill of divorce after all.
Watching major position change and then change again started raising questions I wasn't ready to ask yet. But that's a much bigger conversation for another episode. Back then, I wasn't asking those questions yet. Back then, I was still trying to make sense of the man I had just married. Then came the third incident, the vegan dog incident. And I know that may sound small from the outside, but this is one of those moments that shows how quickly something minor could become emotionally destructive.
One night, close to midnight, he texted me asking if I had vegan dogs. He had been out drinking and bar hopping. And this was something that became normal over time. Him expecting me to get up late at night, make food, bring him food, or even drive long distances by myself to get him something to eat after he had been out all night. That night, I packed up the food and I brought it to him. But because it was not technically my day, he told me to leave it at the door instead of coming inside because another wife was inside. At first, I was joking. I said it was kind of weird to leave food on the doorstep. It was light. It was playful. There were LOL's in the messages. I was not attacking him. But later he called me. And that phone call changed something in me. He cussed me out badly. He called me names.
He told me I was disrespectful. He said I only wanted to go inside because I didn't get my way. He said his other wives would never talk to him like that.
He said, and I quote, "My [ __ ] don't talk to me like that." He said I looked like a clown. He insulted my intelligence. He called me dumb. He told me he felt like sending me back to San Diego. And while this was happening, his roommate was in the car with him, listening and laughing. I stayed mostly quiet on that call. I froze.
He told me to speak. He told me to express myself, but I had nothing to say. I was shocked. I was hurt and I was overwhelmed. I was crying. And I remember feeling like no matter what I said, it would be used against me. What makes this moment even harder for me to process is that we had just consummated our marriage less than 36 hours before this. So, emotionally, I was in a very vulnerable place. I believed I had just stepped into a deeper level of marriage, intimacy, and commitment. And then suddenly within a day and a half, I was being degraded, humiliated, and spoken to like I was nothing. The next morning, he texted me saying he could have sworn he had told me to express myself, that it had been hours, and that I had plenty of time to process. And again, instead of being angry, I tried to explain. I told him I didn't understand why he dealt with me so harshly. I told him I wasn't attacking him. I told him the energy in the text seemed light to me. I apologized for offending him. I validated his feelings. I said maybe there were things I could have done differently. And that is one of the clearest parts of the relationship pattern. He went off on me, but I became the one doing the emotional repair. I became the one explaining, apologizing, softening, trying to understand his point of view, trying to calm everything down. At one point, he said that looking back at the text, he may have read them the wrong way or in the wrong tone. But then he said he needed to lower his standards, that perfection is unreal, and that would help with his issues.
That was confusing to me because even when he was kind of acknowledging he may have read things wrong, it still came back around to me being the standard that needed to be lower. And I remember telling him that I threw up after that phone call. I told him I felt disgusted.
I told him I felt extremely unhappy and I felt heartbroken. I told him I didn't feel like a good enough woman and that I didn't even feel like he liked me. That is important because it shows where I was emotionally. I was not trying to win an argument. I was not trying to dominate him. I was not trying to disrespect him. I was trying to understand why the man I had just committed myself to could talk to me that way and then act like I was the problem. Later, he asked me what sisters I had talked to since the issue happened. That also stood out to me because after something like that, the focus was not just on whether I was okay. It was also on who knew, who had I told, who had I talked to, and what had I said. Then he asked me what all he said the night before because he wanted to have records for preventative measures. I asked if he remembered what he said, and he said he remembered a lot, but not all. So, I wrote out what I remembered. And I remembered a lot. I wrote out how the conversation started.
I wrote out the names he called me. I wrote out how he said I wanted to go inside because it wasn't my day. I wrote out how he said the other wives didn't like me. How he said no one fs with me.
How he made me answer him. How he insulted my intelligence. How his roommate was laughing. How I was crying.
And how I froze. He asked if I recorded it. I didn't record it physically, but mentally it stuck with me. It stuck with me because something broke in me that night. And when I say it broke something in me, I don't mean I stopped caring overnight. I didn't. The text after that show I still cared. I still tried. I still wanted to believe things could be okay. But something in me had seen something I cannot unsee. And even after all of that, he said he took full accountability. He said he needed to work on his temper and self-control. But then he also asked me to work on doing things that might trigger him. And that's exactly why this pattern was so hard to break out of because there would be just enough accountability to make me think maybe he understood, but then the responsibility would still be placed back onto me. I still had to manage his triggers. I still had to make sure I didn't say the wrong thing. I still had to learn how to respond correctly. I still had to become smaller, quieter, safer, and easier. And that was all within my first month of living there.
Three major incidents in one month. The first time I told myself maybe he drank too much. The second time I realized other wives already knew he acted like this. And the third time I felt something in me break. And looking back now I can see the pattern so clearly.
The explosion, the fear, the crying, the apology, the love bombing, the sexual shift, the blame coming back on me, the concern about who I told, the expectation that I would absorb it, forgive it, and show up the same way the next day. At the time, I didn't have the language for it. I just knew it hurt. I knew I felt confused. I knew I was constantly trying to figure out how to not trigger him, how to be better, and how to be respectful enough, submissive enough, and understanding enough. But the problem was never that I didn't understand how to be a wife. The problem was that I was being conditioned to accept mistreatment as correction, intimidation as leadership, and emotional chaos as something I needed to endure. In the next episode, I'm going to talk about what life behind closed doors actually look like on a regular basis. the daily expectations, the roles, the wives, the children, the public image, and how different everything looked online compared to what was really happening privately.
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